Fanatics Sicken Me!!

I have in my life come across many things that I have considered to be out of the ordinary.  Weird things.

I am not a Wiccan, nor am I a Vampire. I am a Witch, plain and simple. I have in the last 7 years developed huge issues with most Wiccans and their huge ego’s. But today I have to say was the height for me.  I have met fanatics in every walk of life even an atheist fanatic but today for the first time I have met a fanatical Wiccan. This is a man who is so strong in his interpretation of the Wiccan Rede to the point that he condemns every other view or way of life. He preaches what Wicca was intended to be but if he had any fucking clue about history he would know that Gardner never even intended for Wicca to be a path to be used to the extend that it is being used today.

What makes you any better than the ones that chose to burn your ancestors, I am disgusted by you.  You disgrace the very thing that we as freethinkers are against. I tried to reason with this person but like any fanatic he refuses to see anything beyond his own point of view. I am shocked and horrified that any fanatical person has the right to voice his opinion but what shocks me the most about a Wiccan fanatical is that this is a person that would try to speak up against the injustice and the crimes against witchraft, made by the church and then he in turn commits the identical crime to someone else. You are not worth the breath that you used to utter your oaths of initiation.

I am not disgusted with this person because he doesn’t see my point, not at all. I am disgusted with any person that denies or demonizes any other path because it is not the same as theirs. ANYONE that does this disgusts me. You are the reason that so many people have lost their way. What is the next step for this Wiccan? Is he going to start evangelizing and then punish those that do not believe as he does? Sickening.

I really have nothing more to say on the topic. I am saddened and disgusted that this is happening in the larger community and this is the exact reason why I have remained in solitude for so long inside of my Tradition.

Cocktails with Simone

My baby sister, Simone

I have a baby sister. Well she is no longer a baby, she is 19 years old, but she is still my baby sister and will probably always be. As kids we never used to get along. She used to make me so angry that I wanted to drown her head in the toilet, over and over. We used to fight day in and day out. She used to copy everything I do and it pissed me off so badly. I remember one year I put up fake spiderwebs in my room all along the ceiling. Well She got hold of some fake spider webs as well and tried to do it herself in her room (I think she was 7 or 8), but it looked like a big piece of black off cut cotton rolled into a ball and just stuck on her wall. Our mom came home and told her that she needs to take it down cuz it looked crap to which she replied, “but Martin also has some in his room”. Needles to say that after that night, I didn’t have it anymore. What is good for the goose and all that shit. I would watch a movie and she would come into the T.V. lounge and ask what I am watching and then ask me if she has seen it. To which my response would be “I don’t know, maybe.” Which would be an honest answer. How am I supposed to know what she watches. We were all free to watch any movie we wanted and she knew how the video machine and later dvd player worked. The she would look at me and ask “Oh, Did I enjoy the movie?”. Now how the fuck am I supposed to know if she enjoyed a movie if I don’t even know if she watched it. But as we got older we started to get along better and better to the point now that she is my little baby sister and as much as what she is capable of taking care of herself, I still feel as if I should be the bigger brother.

She is a very sexy young girl and due to her long legs and beautiful bone structure she has become a model. A DNA feature that I clearly for some reason did not get. I have our mothers build and the older I get the more I look like our mother. Our mother used to say “I am in perfect shape, a circle is also a shape” So no, I am not build for model material.

She may be thin but we are both gorgeous!! ;

About a year ago she met a great new guy.  Who lives in JHB. I do not know how they met but they are lovely together. A sexy little thing with long hair. Then she started studies here and shortly after that I told our older sister that Simone (the baby sister) is going to move to JHB. My older sister told me that it is not going to happen and that the boyfriend is looking for a job in Cape Town.

Well tonight I am having cocktails with Simone. She is leaving for JHB permanently tomorrow morning. It’s very weird, cuz even though we are not the kind of family that visits each other every weekend, we are still close. This is the furthest away that any of the siblings will have moved. It feels very final.

I used to change her nappies and now she is a grown woman making a life for herself and it all feels so surreal. Well best of luck to you Kleine Schwess.

Love you lots

Mwah!!

Facebook or Internet Auschwitz

I don’t have too much to say about the following topic but I do have something to say none the less. And knowing how I can go on and on it may turn out to be longer than what I thought.

I want to talk about the apparent Facebook etiquette and protocol. Now everyone has had something to say about this, so grant me the time to do so as well. I have to firstly state that Facebook is a computer program used to amuse oneself, by whatever means is available on it. That’s it. I wish people would stop taking it so fucking seriously. As all admins on Facebook groups will know, Facebook is constantly fucking with us by making how to add people more and more confusing. Currently I don’t know who belongs to my groups already and how to determine whether or not a friend has already been added and how to just send someone a request to join instead of adding them immediately.

Now this is the thing that really gets me. We all know that this is normal for Facebook and that we cant always help who gets added to what. If you have been added to a group to which you do not want to belong, there is a wonderful button that you click and tada!!! you no longer belong to the group. It is not needed to create a long fucking issue on that group wall as to how rude it is for people to just add you. 9 out of 10 it is that there is no other way and that the Admin hopes that every person will have the decency to just remove themselves quietly if they do not want to belong. No…….we have to create fucking blogs to bitch and moan about how rude people are to just add us to a group and post that all over the fucking group. GET OVER YOURSELF!!!! You don’t want to belong, click the button that is marked for you to leave the group. And realize how fucking rude you are by making a scene about something so pathetic!

While I am busy here. When did it become ok for people to bitch about what it is that other people say on their own walls. If I want to say on my wall that I am raging homosexual that enjoys swallowing spunk every second night, then it is my prerogative to do so. It is after all my fucking wall. If you don’t like what I have to say on my wall then don’t fucking read it. Delete me as a friend. No, now we get these self-righteous sons of bitches who feels it is their calling to help us correct the things that we write on our walls. I know what I wrote, and I wrote it because that is what I wanted to say at the time, tomorrow I may feel different and I will deal with it then. If the shoe fits, buy one in every fucking colour. I also can’t help but notice that it is normally these fucking people that don’t have lives outside of Facebook that has something to say about everything. Get some real friends that you can talk to face to face, go jog or do fucking something but realize that Facebook is a computer program, not an alternative universe where you can live a less pathetic life.

To those of you that are now offended by my blog, I warned you from the beginning that here I will say what ever I want to, so kiss my tiara.

For those of you that get it, and agree, I love you so much. Freedom of speech people, get with the program.

Mwah!!

Going Green

I did the unthinkable this weekend. On Saturday morning / early afternoon, I put on thick gloves made for outside work. Took my gardening fork in my right hand and went into what little piece of garden I have. It is just a patch along the wall of the property that stretches the entire length of the property. But the stretch is about 30 cm wide. It is however the principal of the matter that counts here. I detest gardening. As a little kid I remember my Granny hiding money in between the weeds, and that is the only way she got us to pull out the weeds. Then as I grew up, whenever we had to do gardening in my mom’s house I detested it. Outside in the hot sun, getting your hands dirty, dodging spiders and all manner of things with more than four legs while you are baking away in the sun at a nice 180° until blood red and blistered. I do not tan. As a very young kid I used to get a golden Mediterranean tan and since I hit puberty I just go tomato red and then blister and peel. Very Sexy. My mom, as much as what I love her, was also a bit of Nazi. You can have a cool drink when you are done, so shut up and pull out the weeds. By that stage that you get your cool drink you are so damn screwed that the thought of anything touching your body, outside or the now tender baked inside, is enough to make anyone confess that they fly on brooms, eat children’s flesh and swallow the devils apparent cold member.

A Dramatic re-enactmen

So back to present day, my little piece of non-brick-paved garden looks like something from the jungles of Tarzan. As a matter of fact I think used the phrase “It is like playing Jumanji”. Saturday was a nice day. Not too hot, not pissing down with rain. So I start at the end closest to the gate. It is only when I pulled out the length of two vibe Crete slabs that I realized that I am out of black bags. So now what do I do? I am not good at this gardening thing and already I had to dodge some or other black bug. Which by the way it can be vey happy that it was black. If it wasn’t it would now be in the afterlife, but I figured it is a fellow Goth so lets be nice and just shoo it away.  And Snails, Jesus those things are disgusting. Both the ones with the house on the back and the divorced ones who left with nothing. That slime trail they leave everywhere is enough to make me wanna puke. It’s like cupping a very old prozzy that clearly doesn’t need lube. I mean really there was a reason I turned gay. No offense girls, it’s not you it’s me….or something like that. Ok so then I figure, Paul and I really don’t create that much rubble in a week. Our bin is never full. If it is halfway then we had a rough week. So off I am to fetch the bin. Walk towards the back yard, trip and fall over the Cauldron. For some reason after the previous time we used the Cauldron for magick we have just not put it in it’s place yet. And I, inevitably, will trip over it, every time. So after I nearly brake my neck twice (going to the bin and coming back with it, past the same Cauldron) I now have the bin at the ready to dispose of my weeds. I have to say, that it was a bit of a sad moment pulling out the weeds, cuz even though it completely over grew all of the actual plants, it was at least green and I like a green garden. Paul eventually comes out and asks if he can help. Wrong choice of words. On the wall of the house we have three beddings. Beautiful plants in it that you cannot see anymore, because of the beautiful green that now grows there. And stinging nettle, crap I have not seen so much stinging nettle since I was a little kid. So Paul pulls out all the weeds in the beddings and leaves the nettle for me cuz I have the magick garden gloves. We carried on like this until the bin was full. Now there is about two meters of garden patch left to do. At the end of it all I am standing against the bin and I am deep in thought and Paul asks me “Penny for your thoughts” to which I normally reply that I hope he has change. But I told him that when I lived in Goodwood, I had garden services included in the rent. And great as it was, I only now realize that it robbed me of the time to experience my garden.

It would then seem that me putting on the garden gloves might become a regular thing. Which leads me to one conclusion…….I must be getting old.

Mwah!!

Krishna Consciousness or is it just Jesus worship?

Let me just start by saying that I am a Pagan man. My Patrons happen to be all from the Hindu pantheon and so I have incorporated many Hindu aspects into my private practice. Note Hindu and not Krishna Consciousness.

As previously stated, I am once again reading the Bhagavat-Gita. The last time I read it I must have been 14 and most of it just went ‘woosh’ over my head. It is a lovely book with, well I suppose to some people it could be great lessons, but in principal I have issues with the Krishna Consciousness movement that was made popular by His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivendanta Swami Prabhupada. Here is my issue. Please note that I am not going out of my way here to disrespect the faith I am simply exorcising my constitutional right to freedom of speech, and that speech is based on what I think, feel or have experienced.

Krishna and his Avatars

Every single page states that Krishna is the Supreme Godhead.  Reading it is almost brainwash like. It is as if, if after 602 pages on every page about twice it is said to you that Krishna is the Supreme Being, you will believe it. Or maybe that is just their modus operands. Krishna is the Supreme Being.

Then in the beginning of the Gita it speaks of the conversations between Krishna and his most devoted servant Arjuna. Krishna is the Supreme Being.

We are told that Even though Arjuna serves Krishna, due to his loyalty Krishna also serves Arjuna. At one point Arjuna does not want to carry on with the battle that will take place on the fields of Kuruksetra, because he fears fro what will happen to the families of the men that will be killed in battle.  He pleads with Krishna that there does not need to be a war and that Krishna being the Supreme Lord can end this. Krishna however calls Arjuna weak and impure and demands that blood must be spilled. Krishna is the Supreme Being.

The Gita says that women are subservient to men and that women are prone to be misled and to degradation and of course adultery. It says that women needs men to keep them in line and to make sure that they do not sin, for such will disgrace the family. Krishna is the Supreme Being.

To me all of this sounds very much like another faith that I cannot follow. It must be understood that Krishna was not always the Supreme being. Yes the worship of Krishna goes back to the 4^th century BC. As a matter of fact some people state that before the development of Krishnaism he was not even a God, but a Hero, much like Heracles. It is only the 16^th century that the central Krishna ‘faith’ was established that elevated Krishna (one of the many Hindu Deities) to Supreme Godhead. Only in the 1960’s did the movement come to the west due to the now organization called the International Society for Krishna Consciousness.

Gay Kama Sutra as taught by the Vedic

In my opinion, Krishnaism (for lack of a better word) has taken a polytheistic spirituality and turned it into a monotheistic one. One God to rule them all.

In Hinduism there were three-mayor creator Gods, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. In Krishnaism they are still there but they are thought of as avatars or servants of Krishna and all over India now, these are the images that you will see and read about. The avatars and servants of the Supreme being.

It is in that regard very similar to that other spirituality that I cannot belong to.

Krishna is the Supreme Being.

Another issue I have is that the Hindu faith is not only understanding of sex and sexually but they wrote the book on the matter, quite literally. The Kama Sutra has been written by the Vedic’s and it was originally understood that men and women could have homosexual relations. And we have not even touched the Tantra at this point. In Krishnaism, sex is forbidden. You have to be celibate and lets not even start to talk about homosexuality.

Krishna is the Supreme Being.

Mwah!!

Lies

I am once again reading the Bhagavad-Gita. Very interesting book. But I find that there are two very conflicting sides within myself. The Hindu orientated side of me wants to embrace the Gita but the Pagan side of me says that believing Krishna to be the supreme consciousness is conflicting with my eclectic nature. I am hoping for guidance.

Recently I have been the target of someone’s hate. I found out who has stolen my robes and rings and crystals and and and, and this person knows that I know. Instead of coming clean and talking about it he has decided to smear my name black, well he is trying. The most god awful things about me. To be honest I am kinda used to it. You see I have the personality that people either love or hate and those that hate it has decided to make it their mission to speak only ill of me and all that I do. It doesn’t normally bother me, really I am so over these pretentious people and their dragons that has nothing good to say about anyone that is not part of their little click.

But I think I expected more from this man. I think I thought that maybe there was hope that he would be an adult about all of this and we would be able to talk about it. Clearly I was terribly wrong.

So I have taken a few days to try and see his perspective on the matter. I have given him the benefit of the doubt and worked on putting myself in his shoes. I still cannot see how I am only ego driven, How I believe myself to be a God, How I want people to kiss my feet and herald my coming. I do not see how I have an attitude that I am better than others or that I do not care for other people. That is one of the reasons for me reading the Gita again. To try and see how ego driven I am and hopefully to get some form of guidance. Well so far I have to admit that I do not feel that I all that Ego driven. I honestly cannot see what this man from Pietermaritzburg sees.

So I am thinking that his ranting I in truth not based on me at all but based on the reflection that he sees in the mirror. Of course I could be completely wrong. But my mother taught me long ago that people often hate in others what they hate in themselves really. I am no angry with him. I do not hate him. Granted I also do not understand how anyone can steal from someone else and then lie about it even when you get caught. I have made peace with the fact that I will never see the stolen items again and in truth I would not want it back. It is somehow tainted now and not the same anymore.

I am not a perfect man and I have never claimed that I am. I do what I do in service of my calling and I have never claimed that my way is the only way. I encourage students to find their own truth and to grow beyond what I can teach them. Nine out of ten times the people that do not like me are misguided in what they have been told to believe about me and they are too much of silly sheep like people to think for themselves and ask me about all the things that they have been told about. Again, I really don’t mind that some people do not like me. I never expected anyone to like me and I am well aware of the fact that I cannot please everyone. Somewhere along the path some people will be pissed off by me, but what boggles my mind is how can people just blindly believe or make up this shit. How fucking pathetic does your own life need to be to be talking so much kak about someone else who has never been anything but good for you?

If you think that this post is about you, then who knows maybe it is. All I know is instead of being a coward and hiding behind your ugly words, how about you grow some balls and talk to me. You will find that I am a lot more accommodating than what you have been led to believe. Hope to hear from you soon.

Mwah!

Japenese Gardens

Entrance

On Monday before we tried to make a new attempt at Ushaka, Catherine remembered about a magickal place that she wanted to take me.

Some Pretty Flowers

So off we drive to Durban North to find the Japanese Garden. I expected an average size park with a few nice things in it but nothing that would blow you away.

It is not at all what I expected. Firstly, it is a public park. People can come and go as they please and surprisingly enough it is very clean. There are no shops for you to buy small gifts or anything. In other words, it is completely untouched by the fake of world of monies and tourists. I know in Cape Town we cannot possibly imagine what it must feel like, but I tell you it is one of the most wonderful things ever, to go to a park and it is clean and not over run with tourists.

One of the Water fea

The moment you walk into the park you can feel the energy. I felt so calm. As a matter of fact it is the most calm I have felt in a very long time.

It is so majestic and out of this world. So much so, that I cannot think of any way to describe it that will do it justice.

At one point I sat next to little river and just felt the knot in my throat. I wanted to cry, I had no reason to cry but I had the need. I don’t know about what I was going to cry, but I needed to.

The weirdest thing about the park is that it seems that everyone that goes there, children and adults alike, now that this place is magickal. Everyone treats it with so much respect and everyone seems to go there to find their calm, their Ohm.

Mwah!

Piercings

What I looked like the morning I flew to Durban

On Friday, the 5^th of August I flew to King Shaka International Airport in Durban at 06:30 in the morning. I had to wake up in wee hours of the morning at like 03:00 to get ready to be at the airport in time. When I got there I checked my luggage in and then said goodbye to Paul. 5 Days without him seemed like forever. I walked through the metal detectors at the boarding gates and forgot my cell phone in my pocket. So I put my bag and camera down to go through the scanner and I walk. The thing went crazy and everyone is looking at me. A African female calls me aside, because now I need to be searched. So she starts to search me and as she gets to my chest she realizes that there are no breasts. Her mouth falls open, she takes a step back and at the top of her voice she says “Hao, You are not a Lady?” Everyone at the boarding gates are now looking at me and I just want to disappear.  Aarde sluk my in.

Gate at Ushaka Marine Worl

So I get to Durban and we decide to go to Ushaka Marine World. We walk around for 5 minutes and the intercom goes on “There is an emergency in the park, please evacuate. This is not a drill” People are walking towards the exits. I look at myself and what I am wearing and I realize they must have never seen something like me before. Just didn’t realize that my radical dress sense was enough to evacuate the entire Ushaka.

On Monday we decide that we will brave Ushaka again. I put on a blue jean and a white top that was made by Ritual Divine but is modest. We manage to walk around the entire park and no announcements. To me this proves that on Friday I was just too way out for any of them to deal with so they decided to spare the people and got rid of me.

After a smoke outside we walk past a tattoo and piercing parlor. Catherine wants to have more holes in her ears done and I want an eyebrow piercing. We go in and there is a very attractive blond surfer looking guy with huge ear stretches. They have issues doing Catherine’s ears but we decide that for her ears we will go to the mall.  But during all of this, the nice blond boy who comments on my hair, explains to us that the Zulu girl does the piercings. There she stands, short, skinny, and leg hair so long that you get American cable in her eyes. I am doubting the piercing but I want one because Paul said long ago that he thinks it will look very sexy, and I want to look sexy for my man. So I decide, that between making my boyfriend lust after me even more and possibly loosing my face, the latter is less important. I sit on the chair while she readies her instruments. I give her all the details of what I want her to do and what she must not do. This is after all my 11^th piercing and I know how I like to have it done.

Getting Pierced

I give Catherine a last glance as she is standing with the camera waiting to capture the moment, and then I close my eyes. I warn all children that if I say horrible things about their mothers, they must just not repeat it. At least not to their mothers. The Zulu clamps my eyebrow and we proceed. It was not painful at all. I felt the needle going in quickly and the next minute she was busy tightening the bar…………or so I thought. I felt the swab and thought we were done. I open my eyes and notice the fact that she is a little pale for a woman who was very black a few seconds ago. I ask her if it is bleeding a little. As this is normal. She gives me a sarcastic look and actually asks me “Eish ar you e bleeda?” I say to her “Are you crazy you can see how many piercings I have, Of course I am not a bleeder” Well, she took the swab off and it was just blood. She  took the next one and the next and at about number 5 she tells me “Okaaaaa so now we wait for it to stop bleeding and then re-do”  RE-DO!!! Apparently I bled so much that the bar could not go in. The moment she said RE-DO and I saw all the blood, I felt my world starting to spin very fast. I somehow managed to turn my head towards Catherine who looked very worried and mumbled for her to please get me some Coke. She ran. In my head I can see that I am going to look like the Batman villain ‘Two-face’ when this is over. I feel cold, in Durban. I feel cold in the middle of a hot day in Durban. For those of you that have been there will know that it is just about fucking impossible, but I was shivering. Catherine comes back and I drink like half of the bottle in one swig. It stops bleeding. I sit back and ask for my money back. Gorilla legs then tells me not to be a big baby. Not be a baby. She just made me loose enough blood to donate to 5 families in Iraq and she calls me a baby. So I figure ok. One more time but if it doesn’t work then, well then at least the Gods can’t say I am pussy. I look at the Gorilla and say “Ousie, if you hurt me now I will hurt you back” She asks me what I am going to do and I tell het that I am going to moer her.

Again I close my eyes and three seconds later I have a stunning eyebrow piercing. I ask her why it was so effortless this time round and she responded “Hoa, I am afraid of being moered.”

We joke for a bit and as I leave I warn the next client, waiting vey patiently, that she is a monster and hurts people.

Mwah!!

Hannuman

A photo of the Monkey God Hannuman, taken at the Hindu temple in Durban

A long time ago there was monkey God who lived in the forests of India. He was a loyal and true servant to the all-pervasive, all encompassing God called Ram. One day Sita, Ram’s consort gave the monkey God a set of pearls that she herself got as a gift from Ram.  She gave him the pearls as a thank you for his great and loyal service to them. They were priceless, the best pearls ever created, worth a fortune.

The monkey God ripped the string of pearls apart and started to bite each pearl in half. As he did this he would look into the halves that he had bitten and throw them over his shoulder. Sita was distraught; she screamed at him “What do you think you are doing?!!”

The monkey God very calmly carried on biting the pearls in half and looked at the inside and while doing this he told her that he wanted to see if Ram was inside of the pearls.

Sita started laughing hysterically “You crazy monkey. Of course Ram is not inside of the pearls, he is too big. Hahahahahahahahaha. Stupid stupid monkey, that is like saying Ram is inside of you. Hahahahahahaha.”

The monkey God dropped the pearls and looked up. He took his bare hands and ripped open his entire chest. Sita was stunned and as she looked at him she saw that every bone and every organ had the name ‘Ram’ scratched out on it. The monkey God looked at her and simply said “If Ram is not inside of something, then I do not want it near me, for it has no worth.”

As you know, I went to Durban the last few days. More correctly, I went to Kwa-Zulu Natal. I visited many places there, all of which I will still tell you stories about. But I want to tell you first about what was probably the most profound thing that was said to me during my stay.

We went to a shopping mall called the Pavilion. Beautiful little mall. We walked around and it was rather late already and then my friend decided to take me to a shop. It was called ‘Moon Beams’ or ‘Moon Dreams’ or something to that affect. He had stunning things in his shop. From Hindu statues to Fairies, and tons of Dream catchers and sun catcher, that hung from the ceiling. An elderly Hindu gentleman runs the show. He looks at me, greets me and then asks if I am also fasting now like all the Hindus. I explain to him that I am not a Hindu, but a Pagan and that to me the dot not only shows that I am spoken for in a relationship but it also represents the third eye. I explained to him more or less what Paganism is and that my Patron Gods happen to be from the Hindu pantheon and that I am obsessed with the Hindu culture. He asks me if I have a Shiva statue and I tell him that I have a Shiva, Kali, Hannuman, Ganesha and Laksmi, but that I am looking for a Saraswati. No problem he says and takes my details. Say he will let me know when he has it and then we can make arrangements for my friend to get it for me. We start talking about books and he tells me that he normally gives a copy of the Bhagavad-Gita, for free, with every Hindu statue that he sells, I thank him but explain to him that  I have a copy already. And the conversation carries on. Eventually I remember that I am looking for the Guru-Gita and I ask him if he knows where I can get one. He starts giving me directions and tells me that if I leave now I can still make it in time before they close. But I am at the mall to meet my friend Quentin for supper. Alas I cannot go.

Very quickly he says that I should not worry and that he is going to go to Temple in anyway and he will get me a copy of the Guru-Gita. By Friday he should have it.  He will let me know when he has it, if it takes longer, and then we can work out how to get it to me. His shop is filled with beautiful things and they are expensive. The first thing that goes through my mind is what if I cannot afford the Guru-Gita. I have seen the prices on the Internet and they are not cheap. I ask him what it will cost me. He quietly looks at me, touches my shoulder and says “No my friend, for God’s work, we do not charge” I had had an extremely spiritual day already with the sites that I visited and when that man touched my shoulder and told me that “for God’s work we do not charge” I wanted to cry. It was profound, that a total stranger could possibly say something like that. A man who makes his living by selling things said, “for God’s work we do not charge”

I know that I am busy re-evaluating things in my head and that, that man’s words sparked a process of internal search. I don’t know what the outcome will be. I don’t know what the result will be for me, my students, or my Tradition. All I do know is that, not just due to those words but many events, although those words were the catalyst thing, I am not the same. I have changed. And I cannot explain it to you or draw it or …..anything. I am just different.

A Hindu man that I do not know at all, changed my life in a matter of 1 minute. Let’s see what the future now holds.

Mwah!!

just a chit chat

I am getting ready for my trip to Durban and yes I am still kakking myself about it. Every day seems like I am getting closer to an impending doom. To be honest I am also stressing about Paul. I know that he won’t take care of himself. Will live of bread and just play dead. So I have instructed key people to keep an eye on him and invite him over and keep him busy. Well lets see if it is true what they say about absinth and what it does to……. Of sorry absence, oh ok. But be that as it may I just thought I would update everyone that tomorrow will be my last blog entry until next week Wednesday, but then I will have photo’s and stories from Durban. Hopefully loads to share!  

I am trying a more corporate look today. Yes I have done this look before but with the red jersey it just pops. I have to admit that I did turn at least one head this morning. Granted it was of something that had no teeth, who’s make-up was all over it’s face except for where it should be and I am still not sure if it was male or female. It was all in all very scary come to think about it. I was not sure if it turned its head to think “wow, sexy man” or “lunch, god I am hungry”. Either way I don’t really want to lend my DNA in any way to that.

The 100day challenge started yesterday and I decided that my 100 day challenge will compromise of a few things. To be less Jaded. To make a point of spending time on the notes I am writing for the Tradition and to work on my book. I also want to try and do some exercise, but hell I am not Jesus and can’t promise that last one. I would love to be thin, but I love chocolate more. Come to think about it, it’s not that I eat a lot of chocolate. It’s just that I eat too much at a time and that I don’t exercise. I don’t think I am an ugly fat person. Yes I joke and I call myself Jubba the Hut, which really pisses Paul off, which is why I do it. I like to sometimes play with him and make him upset and that sounded so wrong. I don’t know how to correct it without it sounding worse so I am just gonna leave it.

Friends of ours just moved into a lovely new home and once again I am doing it. I am comparing. I know I shouldn’t do it. I just look at their beautiful home and I see how spacious it is and I also want a bigger house. I want to move back to Edgemead. It was such a nice neighbourhood and it’s green, very pretty. Well lets see what happens.

Mwah!

The Old man and the Lion

The old man walked across the plains. It was almost sunset and his bones were weary and tired. He could do with a sitting down right about now. His ones white robes were getting heavier and heavier and his walking staff no longer had the ability to keep his back straight.

In the distance he saw smoke lazily connecting earth and sky. His long white hair whisping in the evening wind. After a long day as what he has had he decides to walk towards the smoke and as he does he starts to see the forming a small circle of Teepee’s. Being a European of the old path the old man decides to carry on walking towards the encampment with the hope that these people will be friendly and give him a seat. The cold is starting to set in on his old bones but he reaches the encampment in time. A man, as old as what he is, a man to which he immediately feels a kinship with, takes a thick buffalo skin and places it around the shoulders of the old man and together they sit at the fire. The two of them do not speak but they share glances and smiles. One Indian and one European.

The Shaman

A young girl dances around the fire, stops in front of the old man and touches his face. He was so entranced by the music that he did not notice the seat next to him was now empty, the Shaman was no longer sitting there. The girl takes the old man by the hand, helps him up and leads him to one of the teepees.

The old man walks into the teepee. In the centre is a small fire. On the opposite side of the fire sits the Shaman. He doesn’t speak but motions for the old man to sit on a make shift bed, while he is crushing herbs to make a tea. The water is boiling over the small fire and soon he passes the tea to old man. For the first time the Shaman speaks: “you must go on a quest. You must go alone. You must learn.” The Shaman helped the old man to lie down after he drank the tea.

He closed his eyes and allowed for the herbs to send him on his quest.

In front of him was a lion. A big lion with a small yet soft mane.  He was not scared. Not in the least. He somehow knew the lion would do him no harm. Reaching for his walking staff he stood up and found himself in the middle of a dead forest at night. It was dark and grey. While constantly caressing the lions mane the two walked side by side until they came to a cross roads. The old man wanted to halt and think of where he should go but the lion pushed him to go left and so they did. The path through the forest was long and winding and dark. Wolves and all manner of creatures walked along the path, their eyes not moving from the two. It was as if they wanted to attack but some invisible barrier that they could see kept them at bay. It was a difficult path to walk, partly due to the black of night and partly due to the tree roots, stones and other obstacles that they found on the path. Eventually they see a light. It is not a like a fire or a village but daylight. Just beyond this forest of night lies something in the daylight. They eventually they cross the threshold. The forest behind them disappears and they are standing on a huge farm. Green grass and tall trees. In front of them stands a huge Pyramid like building of gold, but in the Mayan design. It had stairs at what must be the front facing that led all the way to the top. Around it hundreds of people are singing and dancing and having a merry time. As he walks closer the crowd stops, turns his way and parts so that he can walk to the front. More people join, where they come from, he does not know but people are joining. At the front he sees one of his old friends. He drops his walking staff and runs to her. “Bev, what are you doing here?” he yells out while giving her a hug. Calmly and with grace she smiles at him and answers “We are all here my friend.” As sure as the moon rises each night, when he looked around him he saw everyone he had ever know in front of him. Living and dead, they were all there celebrating something. But more people still were rocking up and many of them he did not know. The celebration continued and before long he joined in with the dancing and singing and then something urged him to run up the stairs of the ancient pyramid. As he took each step he grew younger and younger, until eventually he was a young man again. A young man with long black hair. As he ran up the stairs a Phoenix, the firebird, started to form at the top of the pyramid.  When he reached the top he stood dead still, arms up and outreached as if he was invoking the Goddess. Brightly all round him stood the mighty Phoenix. The phoenix looked down at him and then flew from the top and circled the crowd. There where he flew he left a line of flames until eventually everyone there was standing in a ring of flames. The Phoenix then exploded to from a sphere around the people. Everyone present was protected by the mighty Phoenix sphere. More people joined and as hey joined the phoenix sphere grew bigger and bigger to protect all of the new people as well.

The old man woke to find himself alone in the Shamans teepee. He sat up and got his balance. From outside he could hear the tribe still having a merry time. He stepped out of the teepee. The old Shaman smiled at him from his seat and nodded.